Page 36 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Helena shoved at him,even as she fought laughter and outrage, and Damien let her go but caught her hand. She gasped as he kissed her knuckles.
“Go on, then,” he said, and his voice seemed deeper. “Undo me with yer clever English ways, me bride. I confess I am lookin’ forward to it.”
“Damien,” she got out, her breathless voice nearly unrecognizable to her ears.
“D’ye ken what ye do to me, Helena? Dressed in this pretty gown, with hints of white underneath, and yer two braids? Ye look so luscious that I find meself wantin’ to ruin ye—even as I suspect it might go the other way ‘round.” He pulled her closer, and his voice became hoarse. “I have never, since me faither died, been able to be distracted from a storm, and yet ye…”
“That’s right,” she got out as he turned her hand over and kissed her wrist, nearly sending her to her knees. “I meant to distract you. And now you are trying to seduce me again, Sir. As though it’s your job.”
“Perhaps it is,” Damien murmured. “I think I’d excel.” He let go of her hand, and she snatched it back against her chest. “Go on—or do ye want me to make ye reconsider yer year?”
“I want to make sure you are all right,” Helena retorted, even though she knew she should’ve run for the door.
Why wasn’t she running?
“Ye ken,” Damien said as he took a step forward, and Helena took a step back. “A year is a verra long time. And we seem to spark, lass. I agreed to nay bairns for a year, but what if there were other…distractionsthat we might take part in that would bring us as much pleasure?”
Helena’s face flamed. How dare he use that word in such a context? Or tease her with carnal pleasure?
“You are insufferable,” she huffed as her back hit the wall. “A-A proper rogue.”
“I ken that,” Damien said and stepped closer, but he did not hem her in. Not as he had when they were near the tree.
Again, Helena remembered the way she’d been pressed against it, with him looming over her. And then she remembered how he’d teased her, pulled at her, and then twisted her around so that her back was pressed against his front, his lips on her neck.
“I also ken what ye are thinkin’.”
Helena’s hands flattened against the wall as he loomed over her. “Oh?” she gasped as he delicately moved her braid and stroked his thumb over the spot on her neck where he’d kissed her. His eyebrow rose as he did it again, and she couldn’t help it—she nodded. “Please.”
“Aye, beg for mercy,Sassenach,” Damien murmured, moving closer and cupping her face in his big hands. “Beg for me.”
“Never, you insufferable arse,” Helena blurted out, before she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss, surging up on her tiptoes at the same time.
Damien laughed against her lips, then kissed her hard.
This kiss smoldered between them, burning hotter and hotter. Helena savored the pressure of his lips against hers, the delicious roll of nerves in her belly, and the skittering of sparks across her skin.
Then, Damien slid his hands down her neck, down her back, and yanked her close. The wall was gone, and Helena fell against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Now, the kiss began to burn and catch, and Helena gasped when Damien nipped her lip. It sent a blaze through her, and then he stroked his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her, dominating her, as he pulled her closer. Helena arched into him, holding on and tugging on his hair.
She smiled when he snarled into her mouth, and she tasted him now, the two of them teasing and battling as they did with their words.
Finally, when Helena dragged her nails down the side of Damien’s neck and through his beard, he went rigid. His hips jerked against hers, and she went hot all over when she felt a massive ridge brush against her sex.
“Helena,” Damien gasped and held her at arm’s length. His chest rose and fell with great gasps, his face flushed, his blue eye electric. “Christ, I?—”
He kissed her again, harder, and then her back hit the wall as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she made a high-pitched sound in her throat as he rocked his hard manhood against her again.
Was it supposed to feel so big? Her head fell back against the wall as he kissed her jaw and neck, and she murmured his name.
“Say it again,” Damien said and lifted his head, staring at her.
She smiled at him. “What?”
“Lena,” he mumbled, even as a smile lit up his face. He kissed her again, his fingers curling into her waist, his other hand stroking her face. “I cannae?—”
A loud boom of thunder cracked overhead, and both started, then stared at each other. They were both panting harder than ever now, and then Damien let out a rueful laugh.
